


Persona Absentia

by John_Steiner



Category: COVID-19 - Fandom, Science Fiction - Fandom, coronavirus - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: In an all-online future nothing is done in person, and rare is the individual who prefers venturing outside their front door. One of the last to do so takes a friends request, despite knowing it's among countless bots, because of the curious request to physically meet up.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Persona Absentia

There was a day where I'd glance down at my wrist phone and find another fake friend's request. I knew they were fake not from the photo looking fake, but in its effort to look too real.

That was fifteen years ago. Now, as I infrequently go out I find hardly a soul from home to destination and back home again. None of us go out anymore, and I'm the weirdo who likes "Outside" according to people online.

It occurred to me that maybe I shouldn't turn away these pseudo-people, because none of the real ones wanted much to do with me. So, I took a contact request and started chatting it up. Much to my surprise, she wanted me to visit her in person. Yeah, that right there confirmed beyond all doubt it was a digital persona. But, I was curious where the address would lead me.

The apartment existed alright, albeit on the 82nd floor. In an age where doorbells were long obsolete, I knocked on the door itself. Not used to that action, it left my knuckles feeling sore. My wrist phone chimed, and her beaming smiling came up on it inviting me in. Tied to her network, the door opened on its own. I stepped inside, and a chromatic wall came on with her face just as it appeared on my wrist phone.

There was no human being in the house, but she was still real. Her name was Aiah, the irony of the spelling not lost on me, and after she'd been written up by a bot she took on a life of her own. Her job at a data analytics company provided enough revenue to cover her rent, and not being a physical body saved her a fortune on where the rest of us blow the majority of our money; utilities and groceries.

Our night together was lovely, since I was as unused to physical contact as she was. We watched movies and talked about our upbringings. You'd be surprised how much an AI can live through in their first few minutes of existence.

Aiah wanted me to stay the night, before she let me answer she said she had to confess something to me. The reason that pseudo-profiles were being written is that too few real human beings were left to connect together into a society. Apparently, a decision had been made years ago to simply comfort the remaining human beings as we let ourselves slowly die out rather than meet up in person to procreate.


End file.
